Bubbles

Apparently, being at my grandmother's house in Indiana gives me immense inspiration. I've noticed it's been where I do my best writing.

I should come here more often.

Disclaimer: INSERT WITTY COMMENT HERE

I've always loved bubbles, but I don't really know why. Ever since my father started bringing me little bottles of bubble fluid when he came home from work, I've loved to play with them. And the fact that the wand looks like a miniature Quidditch hoop, thereby reminding me of Hogwarts, might have a bit to do with my obsession. And the fact that it's called a wand.

I put down my quill and stretched. It was possibly the most glorious day of the year, and I, the only one who had finished their homework before the day it was due and had now finished writing down that pesky story that had been nagging at me, was now able to go outside while everyone else rushed through their work. I saw that as a good thing, since I liked to be alone in a pensive mood like I was in now. I quickly dashed up to the dorm and changed into a simple white t-shirt and black shorts, then grabbed my bag and exited the quiet Common Room.

Once I got outside, I made a beeline for the lake. I sat down right at the water's edge and flopped onto my back, letting my long red hair splay out behind me. A nice breeze blew off the lake, making everything – the grass, the trees, my hair – rustle.


Sirius yawned. I looked down at him from my perch in the old beech tree by the lake.

"What's wrong, Pad?"

Sirius looked up and shrugged. "I dunno, mate," he said. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm regretting not staying inside with you yesterday to finish up our homework. I'm heading inside to go do it. Coming, Wormtail? Moony?"

Peter got up to follow Sirius. "Sure. I've got to find someone who'll help me with my Potions anyway."

"You've never been any good at Potions, have you, Wormy?" Remus asked. "As for me, I'm going to stay here. I've finished everything but Divination, and I'm planning on just making that up. Besides, I have a book to finish."

"Oh, but Moony," Peter complained, "I need your help with Potions!"

Remus groaned. "Couldn't you just ask someone else? Like… Lily; she's a whiz!"

"Speaking of Lily…" I hopped down from the branch, my eyes now scanning the grounds for that red-haired beauty.

Remus rolled his eyes, groaning again. "Fine," he conceded. "I can see that you're going to be no company, and Lily's evidently going to be preoccupied. I'll help you, Peter, but this is the LAST time. We have our NEWTs in a few weeks, remember that?"

"Oh, thank you, Moony," Peter gushed. "I'll never ask for your help again!"

"Yes, you will," Sirius put in, "you always do. Well, see ya, Prongs."

"See ya," I replied absentmindedly; my eyes had found their quarry. I began walking over towards her, not knowing what on earth I was going to say or do when I got there.

Lily sat back up, the back of her t-shirt rumpled, and reached into her bag. When she removed her hand, she held a small plastic bottle and… a mini Quidditch hoop? Why would Lily Evans, of all people, carry a miniature Quidditch hoop in her bag?

She put the hoop into her bottle. I just stared, confused. She took the hoop back out, raised it to her lips and blew. A bunch of little spheres came out of it… were those bubbles?

Lily blew again, and another slew of bubbles filled the air around her. She was smiling widely, obviously basking in the sheer calm of the day.

And another blow. The wind picked up again, ruffling her lovely hair. What I wouldn't give to touch that hair… Anyway, the bubbles she had just blown started to drift back towards Lily, caught on the breeze. One of them popped on her nose. She giggled. More bubbles popped on her nose, her cheeks, her forehead, and she began to laugh harder.

I marveled at how this intelligent, fiery girl could be amused by something as simple and trite as bubbles. Lily Evans simply never ceased to amaze me. I just wished that I could make her laugh like she was laughing now. Or at least smile. A smile from Lily would make my day.

I realized that I must look like some sort of creep, just standing a ways away and staring openly at her. I had to get closer or get lost. I chose the former, obviously.

Lily either ignored me or was really caught up in her bubbles, because she didn't do anything when I gingerly sat down next to her.

"So…" I had been about to say something witty and well-thought-out, I'm sure, but as soon as she looked at me casually with those magnificent eyes, I completely lost track of all thought.


You could practically watch Potter deflating as he realized he had forgotten what he was going to say. It was rather amusing, actually.

"…Whatcha doing?" he finished lamely.

"I am blowing bubbles," I replied good-naturedly. I was in much too good a mood to have something as unimportant as James Potter ruin it.

Potter looked fascinated. "So that's not a tiny Quidditch hoop," he breathed.

"No," I scoffed. "Of course it's not! This is a bubble wand. See," I demonstrated, "you dip it into the bubble solution, and then blow." I blew out a flurry of bubbles. Unfortunately, the wind was still blowing, and the bubbles proceeded to attack me. It sort of tickles when a bubble bursts on your skin, and I started laughing again.

Potter just watched me laughing. Then he said, "Oh. Well, that's not nearly as cool as what I thought it was."

"Oh, isn't it?" Potter looked like he'd made a dreadful mistake; his astonished countenance made me smile against my will.


I just stared, wide-eyed. If I wasn't mistaken, Lily Evans had just smiled. At me. I think. I was a bit too shocked to tell if it hadn't been my imagination.

"D – did…" I stuttered (mentally slapping myself), "Did you just smile at me? 'Cause I'm afraid it may have been a hallucinogen or something."

Lily smiled again. "You mean hallucination, Potter. And yes, I did smile." More bubbles.

My mouth nearly fell open. The rest of my mental processes evidently stopped simultaneously, for then I blurted, "You know, I love it when you smile."

Much to my dismay, the smile that I was so enamored of slowly vanished, though Lily kept on blowing her bubbles. I felt like I had committed a criminal offense. Who was I to ruin her pleasurable moment?

She sighed, turning to me. "Look, Potter," she said, her mesmerizing eyes imploring. "I know you like me, but I'm sorry. The feelings just aren't reciprocated."


Potter's face fell faster than I had out of my bed that morning. My knees were still bruised… Anyway, I actually felt bad, even if it was only Potter.

I reached out to… I don't know, pat his arm or something, but he stopped me with his words.

"You know what, doesn't matter," he lied. "Let's talk about something else." We both sat down again. "For instance, why the bubbles?"

"My dad used to give them to me when I was a child. I just… remember him when I come across some in a Muggle shop or market."

Potter gave me a quizzical look. "Remember?"

"Well, yeah; he died a few years back. Apoplexy." I blew the last of the fluid through the hoop. Peering into the bottle (in avoidance of Potter's eyes), I declared that there were to be no more bubbles produced from the bottle. Bounding to my feet, I began to march my way back to the castle.

"I'm sorry, Lily."

I turned around, and Potter was standing. His hands were turned outward, for whatever reason. "My dad's gone, too. He was an Auror… a brave man."

"I'm sorry, Potter."

"Call me James."


It rained all the next week. The student body was obliged to stay inside, making the ones who hadn't been able to enjoy the sun grumble.

Finally, the torrents abated, on Tuesday. I awoke to streaming sun, shining directly into my four-poster. Not the best setup for a night person.

I groaned and tumbled my way to the window, hoping to shut the curtain and get five more minutes' sleep. But I saw that the window itself was ajar, and as I leaned over the sill to close it, something cold and mildly ticklish brushed my cheek. I gasped and brought my hand to my face. It was sticky. Looking around at the grounds stories below, I saw that bubbles were everywhere.

Suddenly awake, I yanked on some clothes (the robes could wait until later) and sprinted down the stairs. I hadn't checked the time yet, so I glanced at my watch. 7:30. I had an hour and a half before classes.

I slipped out the oak doors and rushed to the courtyard full of bubbles. I had never seen a sight so marvelous. I began to spin giddily, childlike in my joy.

"What do you think?"

I halted my pirouettes, and James Potter stood before me.

"You did this?" I asked incredulously. "It's just – wow."

James smiled. "May I have this dance, milady?" he asked, gallantly sweeping into a bow.

"You may," I replied, still blown away at this feat. Had he done this for me?

"That I did, Lily," he said. I hadn't realized I had spoken out loud.

James' eyes were bright with the knowledge that he had made me happy. I was unsure of how to convey my gratitude. So I did what I thought would suit him best. I leaned up and kissed him.

"Thank you," I said, pulling away and putting my head on his chest, gazing at our clasped hands.

It took him a few seconds to reply, and I smirked. "Anytime."

Was it good? It's been in my grandma's computer, which I forgot to mention at the beginning, and I just found it and touched it up. Yay! More fanfics-in-the-making off my chest!

Keep on keepin' on.